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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Contest Entry · #2193703
A man is hanging with his family and something happens.
It was January 9th, 2021 and, through an unforeseen series of events, Ann Coulter had been elected first female President of the United States. There were groans from every corner of the country, but the majority of voters were happy. She had been elected in a “red wave” of positive feeling that had engulfed the entire country at once, and now she was riding high, going even further than she had planned to go before. Now was her time. Her time to shine.

“Hello, everyone,” said Ann. “We, as Americans, are a great people. The greatest in the world, if you ask me. But we have enemies; foreign and domestic. When I campaigned for the 2020 presidential race, I promised you that I would do whatever it took to protect Americans. And I'm going to do just that. For my first executive order as president, every American who has been convicted of Schizophrenia, Bipolar Disorder, Paranoid Delusional Disorder, or Tourette's Syndrome will be detained indefinitely.

“It appears that the rate of mass killings has increased indefinitely over the past few years. Time after time, it is found that the person was diagnosed mentally ill. Well, I care about children. I care about families. I will not allow my family, my children to be seated next to one of these 'maniacs' while riding the bus, or sitting next to one these fruit loops while going to school. They're just too dangerous.

“They could flip at any moment. Who wants to have that kind of pain? Who wants to have the pain of not knowing if your child is going to make it home tonight? We have the capacity to detain these people so that they do not hurt normal people. They don't have the right to be allowed to murder, maim and inconvenience normal people. This will take effect immediately. That is all.”

The public at her inauguration was enamored. Many cheered loudly and clapped. There was a weave of emotion at this event that hadn't been seen since the days of Barack Obama. This was a woman who had beat the odds and come out swinging, making herself into a force to be reckoned with in politics. She had beaten all comers, had taken the spot away from strong powerman Donald Trump, and had made the entire world take notice.

Mark Prostor hadn't heard the news, though he had voted in 2020. He was just so happy. He and his family had just gotten back from a one-month vacation to the Philippines and they were happy to be together, as they were.

“We were already killing it this year for enjoyment. Now who's ready for a game of Jenga?” said Mark.

“We are!” said the kids.

They then went to the living room and began to play. It was a rainy night out, which made them appreciate even more the fact that they had gone to the trouble to re-do the roof the previous fall. All day and all night, they had a roof that was sturdy, strong, of high quality. They would be able to weather the storm. If only the storm would come.

“Okay, you know the rules,” said Mark. “The lower the pull, the higher the points.”

The kids then took their turns trying to “pull a fast one.” There was then a moment where something seemed wrong. Something was out of place.

“Dad,” said the youngest. “What's that blue light?”

Mark then looked up to see police lights reflected on the living room wall. Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“One second,” said Mark, walking over to the door and telling his wife the kids were fine.

And when he opened the door, he saw two police officers, rather basso, along with someone who looked like a social worker.

“Mr. Prostor?” said the officer on Mark's right.

“Yes?”

“Are you Mark Prostor of Portland Oregon?” said the officer.

“Yes.”

The kids then proceeded to look from the living room to see what was happening. They stood their in their pajamas, as if they already knew they were orphans.

“Were you convicted of Mental Illness in your past?” said the officer.

“That was twenty years ago,” said Mark. “I've made a full recovery.”

“I'm gonna need you to come with me,” said the officer.

“What do you mean?” said Mark. “I have a job. A life.”

“Once a schizophrenic, always a schizophrenic,” said the officer.

“I'm cured,” said Mark.

“There is no cure, you're faking,” said the officer. “Don't make me have to hurt you.”

Mark then looked back at his family, not sure as to how to break the news.

“Honey,” said Mark. “I have to go away. I'll call you tomorrow.”

“What's happening?” said his wife. “Did you kill someone? Is it a MeToo conviction?”

“No,” said Mark. “Something in my past. I told you about that. You know. I'll call you tomorrow.”

At that moment, two men in white suit brought around a hand truck with straps and a face mask on it.

“We're going to need you to get in this apparatus,” said the officer.

And so they went. Mark rode in the back of that ambulance, not knowing why he was being detained, not knowing if he would ever be able to see his family again, not knowing if he would be alive the next day. They got to the facility a few hours later. It was dark from the outside, because all of the windows were barred and painted black. The perfect place for a murder.

The men in white suits went back to the ambulance and wheeled Mark into the facility, where he was checked in and told his fate.

“The president doesn't like you. Thinks you're a flight risk,” said the nurse in the facility, who interviewed all of the inmates.

“What do you think about me, today?” said Mark.

“I don't like crazies,” said the nurse. “I just handle them.”

"No good deed goes unpunished"


© Copyright 2019 John Andrew Jenkins (johnjenkins at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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